Chains That Define
by samurai-ashes
Summary: Ryou occasionally shares of the bed of two interesting men; it's just a twist of fate that he can't have what he really wants. [BakuraxRyouxYami][complete]
1. Prologue

**_ashes, to this day, doesn't own yu-gi-oh. If she did... well, we've all had our go at 'if we did's, haven't we? ^^_**

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**- long notes -**  
(stop grumbling; they come before every long-ish story, and you know it. ^^) 

This is actually an offshoot from "Giddy Like Schoolgirls," but you don't need to have read it to understand this story – it stands on its own. The only reasons it's related to that story is A) Yami was nowhere to be found throughout the entire fic, and after much searching we discovered him in Bakura's bed; and B) Ryou's comment about not knowing anything about "healthy relationships." So… this is what happened. 

The title comes from the song "Gramarye" by Remy Zero – it's an absolutely awesome song! I don't know if the song itself applies to the story (it's a bizarre song, and interpretation isn't a big strong point of mine, so I'm not so sure I fully understand it), but the line "chains that define who I am" reminded me of Ryou in this story. That and there seems to be a seductive undertone to the whole song. Anyway, if you can get a hold of the song, I'd highly suggest it; it's on the _Stigmata_ soundtrack, or you could just download it. ^^ 

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**

Prologue

**

It was really cute that Jounouchi loved Yuugi, but watching them together made Ryou a little jealous. Okay, a lot jealous. It wasn't his fault, and it wasn't their fault, it was just that he had never known love like that. The closest thing he had to lovers were more interested in each other than him, and they didn't really love him; he was more of their side-game, someone to do when things got a little dull. He sighed and looked out the window, ignoring the noises coming from the room to his left. His bedroom. Well, his and Bakura's bedroom, but Bakura did most of his sleeping in the room that Yami stayed in, so Ryou had gone back to thinking of it as his own. He made a small noise of defiance, a half-formed protest against his own despairing thoughts. 

It wasn't like he loved them either. 

Ryou sighed again – he sighed a lot, maybe a little too often – and went for his keys, his jacket; he needed a walk. He didn't want to stay in the house and listen to Yami and Bakura go at it as though their very lives depended on it. Not to mention if he didn't hear the noises he didn't have to anticipate how much of a mess his room would be in the morning. As he left, locking the door behind him, he looked at his surroundings and sighed. He really wished that he still had his apartment. 

He and Bakura had lived in the apartment until about two months previous; Bakura had decided that he didn't like having neighbors so close. Actually, Ryou remembered the deciding incident clearly, no matter how fuzzy Bakura's memory of it seemed to be. They'd been getting calls from neighbors for a couple weeks – particularly the nice old lady who lived below them. Everyone suspected that Ryou was getting beaten, all because he had some questionable bruises he had once. Only once. He was too shy to explain that he had acquired said bruises in bed, and Bakura had never done anything like that again. It seemed a little too weird to say in casual conversation: "Oh, he got a little rough in bed, but the second he realized that I was crying he stopped. Really, it's never happened again." 

It was true; Ryou had tried his damnedest not to cry, but he wasn't like Bakura, he couldn't enjoy it. Bakura had never laid a hand on him, not maliciously. Unfortunately, he never told anyone that. 

One night the neighbors had apparently had enough of Ryou's screaming – screams they had completely misinterpreted – and called the cops; the cops in turn decided to come check out the domestic abuse call. First, Bakura had answered the door nude: he lacked all tact like that. Ryou blushed when he remembered how he had to run up behind Bakura and wrap him in a blanket – unfortunately all that Ryou had been able to grab as he ran out of the bedroom. Then, when the cop asked what was going on, Bakura didn't hesitate to answer, "We were fucking; is that a crime now?" 

The cop must have invented a new shade of red – even Ryou had never blushed that dark. The cop stammered something about keeping it down, disturbing the peace and such, and all but ran back to the elevator. The next day Bakura announced that he was going to find them a house. Somehow he had, within a week – one story, with a good amount of space between them and their closest neighbors. Ryou had never asked what Bakura did to procure such a place; he didn't really want to know if the original owner was buried in the backyard – or worse. The only complaint Ryou had was the distance from the city; it was a bit of walk to see his friends. Bakura only smirked and said that he'd have to stay home more often. 

At first that hadn't seemed so bad. For a month, maybe two, it was just fine with Ryou – he still went to school, he still saw his friends… just less often. Of course, all good things – well, as good as Ryou could consider them; his relationship with Bakura was intensely warped – had to come to an end. In his particular case, that good thing ended when Bakura brought Yami home. 

Sometimes Ryou wondered what had driven Bakura to hop in bed with Yami of all people. Maybe it was when Ryou had cried in bed; Bakura had stormed off that night, and it only made sense for him to seek a much less breakable form of release. At any rate, he had hoped Yami's stay would be a temporary, some sort of twisted one-night-stand… but one night turned into a month, and Ryou accepted that Yami wasn't going to be leaving any time soon. Not that Yami **never** left – he went back to Yuugi all the time – but he spent most of his time around the house. And so the three of them fell into something of a pattern. 

Yami had a room, and Ryou never touched it when he cleaned (he didn't clean often as it was). When it came to cleaning up after himself, Yami was no better than Bakura. In fact, they both tended to be crude, stuck up, and completely useless. If Ryou were more deluded he would have wondered why he stayed. But he knew why he stayed. 

Bakura. It was no lie to say that he didn't love 'them'. Together, he didn't love either of them; they made his life a living hell, whether they meant to or not. But alone, Bakura… Well, Ryou had the misfortune of being in love with Bakura when Yami wasn't nearby. It was a pity that Bakura didn't seem to possess the depth to love – sometimes he seemed like some sort of Neanderthal. Eat. Sleep. Fuck. Eat again. Sleep some more. 

Ryou never claimed to have good taste. 

But even if Bakura didn't love Ryou, he was at least very possessive of him. Yami hadn't been with them two days when Bakura had very firmly laid down the rules. Yami wasn't allowed to touch Ryou unless Bakura was around and said it was okay, and even when Bakura was around, Yami was never allowed to take him – apparently that was a right reserved for Bakura alone. 

Ryou obeyed the rules. He didn't want Yami inside him in any way, shape, or form. Frankly, he wasn't sure how Yuugi handled having Yami's voice in his mind. The only thing Ryou liked about Yami was his hands, his body, maybe his mouth – in the dark, when Bakura was doing things just as obscene, and Ryou didn't know who was doing what. 

Then he didn't mind Yami so much. 

Somehow in all his walking, Ryou had only ended up back at home. He must have been like a cat – he could wander as far as he wanted, but automatically his feet would always take him back where he belonged. Even if he wasn't happy, even if he felt like he was falling apart at the seams, it was exactly his place in life. He fit it way too perfectly. 

They were still at it when Ryou entered the living room – they were always so _loud_! – but he ignored them and set to picking up laundry. 

He heard Bakura shout – something obscene, probably insulting, but laced with passion nonetheless – and he mourned, throwing the laundry balled in his hands at the wall. He stared at the wall as though his predicament was its fault. 

Ryou fit his place in life… 

…pity that he hated every second of it. 

**-end prologue-**

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**- quick note -**  
So, in case there's any question, we're not headed down the Bakura beating Ryou path of life, but he does strike me as a rough guy, so... Yea. Anyway, hope it was fun! And I hope I finish the first chapter soon-ish, lol. 


	2. Chapter One: Used Towel

**_ashes doesn't own yu-gi-oh_**

**This chapter was edited for FanFiction.net -- you know, wary of them and all. ^^ It's not a big change -- a couple paragraphs of semi-mindless smut. The unedited version can be found at my site, mediaminer, or here: (sans spaces, of course)  
http : // adultfan.nexcess.net / aff / story.php?no=19230&chapter=2 **

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**Chapter One  
Used Towel**

"There you are," Bakura purred seductively, dropping onto the couch beside Ryou and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Ryou sighed and dropped his book over-dramatically, letting it fall to the floor with a light thump. He was pissed off, and he wasn't in the mood to play Bakura's games. 

"I was doing laundry," he responded blandly, fighting the temptation to lean into Bakura's touch, against his body. He was supposed to be angry, and angry men didn't cuddle. Nope. Never. 

He had to look down to avoid glaring at Yami while he was at it. Actually, he always wanted to glare at Yami, but it had never seemed to do any good. Once Yami smiled at him, and after that Ryou decided to try it on himself and glared in the mirror. That was when he discovered that it was an exercise in futility – he didn't look the least bit threatening. 

Yami was curled into an armchair, barely clad in a pair of loose sweatpants. It wasn't often that anyone saw Yami underdressed, but Ryou didn't exactly feel honored. 

"Well, we have a question for you," Bakura continued. 

"You're smart guys, I'm sure you can figure it out on your own," Ryou intoned sarcastically. Actually, if it didn't involve sex, food, or murder, he'd wonder if they really could figure it out. It wasn't to say that they weren't intelligent – they both seemed much smarter than Ryou – but they didn't spend much time taking care of the modern world; it must have been below them or something. Ryou thought it was an awfully hefty philosophy for a couple guys who by all rights and logic should have been dead. Had it been him, he would have done everything in his power to enjoy his second chance. 

"Oh, play nice," Bakura chided. There was a playful lift to his voice, one that only came after sex. Ryou always felt a bit of pride when it was because of him, yet resented it when Yami was responsible. "We just got to thinking: who's the bitch in this relationship?" 

Ryou sighed and answered cleverly, "Me." 

Bakura's laughter was immediate, uninhibited, but Yami paused and started at Ryou intently. Ryou hated that more than anything; Bakura didn't spare more than contemptuous glares and lusty glances when he looked a person, but Yami had a way of just… looking. Staring like he could learn a man's secrets if he watched long enough. Ryou shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny, and he wanted to shout just so Yami would stop. In a way, he was scared that Yami would learn his secrets; those were all Ryou really had left to call his own, and he preferred to keep them that way. Finally Yami joined Bakura's laughter, but he was more restrained. 

"Not quite what we meant," Bakura chuckled, squeezing Ryou tightly around the shoulders. Ryou hated Bakura's laugh – it always sounded malicious, even after sex, and there was something horrible about being laughed at, especially by Bakura. 

"Well, you can figure it out from there," Ryou snapped, sanding roughly. Bakura's arm fell away, but it didn't seem to dampen his mood. Internally Ryou swore. Just once – once! – he would like to move Bakura's emotions when there wasn't sex involved. He'd be content with once, to know that at least Bakura **felt**. From there, he could easily trick himself into thinking that Bakura hid some feelings for him deep down. 

From there, he could handle denial. 

"I'm taking a shower." 

He made it to the bathroom, to the shower, and turned on the water – cold, colder, ice cold. That was how he liked his showers when he didn't want to think about sex or Bakura, but he really hated it. He hated cold in any form, actually. Sort of ironic that he would love Bakura. 

He stripped and stepped under the water, a slight yelp escaping him. He could take such a shower daily and still never get used to it. The streams of water beat down onto his hair, over his neck and down his spine before pooling at his feet and rushing down the drain. Ryou hugged his arms to himself and shivered. He felt like an idiot; he wasn't capable of masochism in any form, even something as pathetically tame as a shower. He couldn't even hurt himself properly. He sighed and hung his head, eyes falling closed. "Damn it," he hissed, fighting the waver of emotion in his voice. It must have been bad karma – he had a Buddhist friend who explained karma to him once in an attempt to cheer him up. It had made sense; the way Ryou saw it, he must have done something really horrible in a past life to be reborn to **this** – a shivering boy in the shower, no family, no lovers, and friends too far away to provide constant comfort. 

"Now, that's much too cold," Bakura said softly, an amused tone to his voice. Immediately the water warmed against Ryou's skin, and he turned back to see that Bakura and gotten into the shower during all of his self-pity, and was fiddling with the knobs. "Surely we could do something better than freezing to death, right, _hikari_?" 

Above all the things Bakura did, Ryou hated being called "_hikari_." Bakura always said it like it was some sort of insult, as though it implied inferiority, weakness… Whether or not Ryou embodied those qualities was beside the point; he didn't want to be addressed by something that signified such. Of course, the nickname also meant that Bakura wanted to play… It was sort of a double-edged sword, and even as Ryou loathed the name, he felt his breath hitch. Sure enough, Bakura was suddenly flush against his back; one arm wrapped around his waist as Bakura sucked at the delicate flesh of his neck. 

Ryou leaned back against him, tilting his head to give Bakura better access. It was the worst and the greatest sensation; Ryou loved sex, loved sex with Bakura as often as possible, but hated his own weak resolve – if he was supposed to be angry, what was he doing, letting Bakura have his way? And, **damn it**, why was he moaning? 

Right: because deep down, he really loved it, and he never could stay mad at Bakura for long. 

--

Wash, dry, dress… Ryou could do anything automatically – his father had always called it a talent. Ryou called it a habit. The less thought he had to invest in menial tasks, the more thought he had on reserve for the things that mattered, like why he never stood up for himself. He had taken on a bully or two in his life, even won – once. But the second the blows were emotional, the way they really hurt… Ryou shook his head, sighing. 

Being left in the bathroom like a used towel – that hurt. 

Ryou made it to his bed without thinking, curled under his quilts – hid under them really. It was nice to have somewhere to hide, but he needed a place of solace, somewhere better than the bed that wasn't really safe. 

"I changed the sheets," a smooth voice came from the doorway, and Ryou peeked out from under his thick quilt to see Yami leaning against the doorframe; the light from the hallway outlined his body, contrasting him from the darkness of the room. 

"Thanks," Ryou grumbled, going back to his hiding place under the sheets. "That means they'll be somewhere in the living room for me to wash tomorrow, right?" 

"Yes." Yami chuckled. "He wore you out, huh? Insatiable bastard…" 

"I'm tired," Ryou said stiffly. "Go away." 

"Oh, sorry to disturb you," Yami replied patronizingly, and Ryou heard him close the door. 

He sighed heavily. 

He needed a place to escape to – even if Yami had left, he would still be there in the morning, or Bakura would just take his place in that doorway… 

"I can't take much more of this," he murmured to himself, biting his lip to hold back tears. Damn it, he never used to cry, not until THEM… not until Bakura… 

Ryou threw off his blankets, navigating the room in the dark to find some clothes. 

If he was ever going to find a place of comfort, he was going to have to do it soon, and there was no time greater than the present. 

**-end chapter one-**

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**Notes**  
Look, I finally did it! XD Hopefully it doesn't suck too much – I'd hate to take so long only to blow. 

*no thoughts* haha, all this time, and not a single thought? I must suck. x.x 


	3. Chapter Two: Illusions of Solace

**_Ashes doesn't own Yu-Gi-Oh_**

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**Chapter Two  
Illusions of Solace**

Ryou liked to write lists in his head; his favorite was one he called 'little known facts about Bakura Ryou'. Of course, they were only little known because no one had ever bothered to ask him anything about his life before Domino. 

One of those little known facts was that Ryou was once a devoutly religious. At one point he found solace in it. That was before Bakura. After Bakura... well, as he felt like his life was going down the drain, his faith went with it. Bakura hadn't really approved church-going habits, anyway. If only Ryou could figure out a way to go back to the days before he had cared what Bakura thought of him and his habits… 

He had gone into the dank old church on a whim, lured by it's dark and empty interior – it felt so much like his soul that night. He had never been in a church at night, had never seen the candles reflect off stained glass and old statues. It was breathtaking. Before he was sure what he was doing he was on his knees in the back pew, head bowed and hands clasped. His mind was silent. He was praying. 

He just didn't know why he was praying, or what he was praying for. He just missed the old comfort that had come from it, the escape that he had once felt as he let the cares of his world fall onto someone else shoulders… 

An old man in a robe came towards him, hands clasped, warm smile on his wrinkled face. He sat in the pew behind Ryou, and after a second the white-haired male looked over to him curiously, not moving from his knees. The old man spoke in a soothing voice, but Ryou didn't understand a word of what he was saying. It was probably Russian; most of the churches in Domino seemed to be Russian-owned. 

"I…" Ryou trailed off. Did the priest even know Japanese? 

"Oh, pardon me," the man said politely, and though his words were heavily accented, Ryou understood them. "I didn't realize that you were Japanese." 

Ryou sighed in relief and replied, "I'm not." 

"Ah, another foreigner then." The man smiled. "What's on your mind, friend? Your face speaks of many troubles." 

With a bowed head Ryou admitted, "Well, I've got plenty of troubles to speak of." 

"Sad words from one so young." 

Ryou scoffed, "I don't feel young; I feel like an old man sometimes – I'm just so… Have you ever felt like your sole purpose in life is to suffer?" 

The man nodded solemnly. "When I was young… Well, youth is foolish, they say. But I was delivered from my suffering," he replied soothingly. "I was set free." 

"Through God," Ryou finished snidely. "I've been in houses like this before, tried to speak to something higher. All I got for my troubles were demons, one of each shoulder. If God is there, he wants to push me away." 

"Tell me of your suffering, then," the priest urged gently. "Perhaps together we can find a place for you." 

Ryou shook his head. "Talking won't dispel my demons – they live and breathe like no others you've met, I'm sure." 

With a sigh the priest patted Ryou's shoulder. "I understand – everyone faces the dark differently. I'll leave you to your prayers." He left Ryou, but his words lingered. 

Everyone faces the dark differently. 

At home, Ryou faced his darkness with bitter love, silence, and muted pain… But here, the darkness wasn't as forbidding; it didn't threaten to overwhelm and destroy him. It was almost soothing. 

Once, his father had told him that church could always give him comfort, would always be a place to go if he felt alone. Ryou smiled at the memory. Maybe his father had been right, maybe it could be his sanctuary from his pain… 

"_Hikari_," a deep voice hissed in his ear. Ryou froze. "I thought you quit this bullshit." Bakura dropped down in the seat behind Ryou; his legs flanked the kneeling boy. "I've told you: nobody's listening." 

"What are you doing here?" Ryou asked softly, bowing his head. 

"Following you; you left so suddenly, I… I needed to make sure you weren't misbehaving." 

"I'm allowed to misbehave if I want," Ryou murmured defiantly, but his voice wasn't very intimidating. He didn't want to talk to Bakura; Bakura could always disprove Ryou's feelings of safety in an instant, usually with little more than a word. "I'll be home later. Go home, now; I'm busy." 

"Doing what?" Bakura demanded incredulously. "Religion," he spat. "The words are different, but the pleas are the same – fools talking to themselves for comfort." He forced Ryou to turn and face him. He cupped the boy's face in his hands and crooned, "You're no fool; you know this is stupid. Think about it: if there's some god who cares about you, would he have given you to me?" 

It was the most convincing argument that Ryou had ever heard. 

Bakura's lips descended to claim his, and Ryou felt tears burn his eyes as he closed them. His past could offer no solace; he had been foolish to hope that he could turn back his heart. 

"Now up on your feet; I don't want to see you on your knees like this again," Bakura ordered, and Ryou obeyed. He was following Bakura to the door when he saw the priest come out of a side door. His gaze passed from Ryou to Bakura – upon meeting Bakura's eyes he visibly shivered. 

"Thank you," Ryou said softly, hoping his voice carried over the space between them. Bakura hugged and stormed out the door. Ryou added, "It was worth trying." 

The priest nodded. "Your demons breath," he repeated. "Live well, friend." 

Ryou nodded and left the church. Bakura was nowhere in sight, but that didn't come as a shock; Bakura never escorted Ryou home, only retrieved him. With a yawn Ryou began his walk home. He hadn't made it two feet when a car horn blared off to his right; he looked over to see Jounouchi hanging out the driver's side window. 

"Hey, what're you doin'?" he called to Ryou, and the white-haired teen smiled. 

"Walking home," Ryou replied, examining his friend. Jounouchi glowed, even in the dark when there was no sunlight to aid him. Ryou wondered if it had something to do with his relationship with Yuugi, with… love. Jounouchi had been at his happiest in the past year that he and Yuugi had been together. 

Jounouchi rolled his eyes. "I see that. It's late; get in and I'll give you a ride." After a second's hesitation Ryou smiled and went to the passenger's side, getting in. 

The conversation was light at they made it further from the city, and Ryou found it as a relief until Jounouchi caught him off-guard. 

"Have you been okay?" 

Ryou smiled weakly and lied, "Of course. Why would you ask?" 

"You've just been distant since you moved, and you smile less at school. Actually, you're at school less, too." 

"I am?" 

"Yeah." They were quickly approaching Ryou's house, and Jounouchi stared at it. "You're not, like… I dunno, getting hurt by that guy, are you?" 

It was common knowledge that Ryou was living with Bakura; where Bakura was from and the nature of his meeting with Ryou… well, that was a little more secret. Jounouchi had always called Bakura 'that guy,' probably for lack of knowing what else to call him. 

"Of course not," Ryou replied. 

"Well, if you are…. man, you can crash with Yuugi." 

Ryou chucked. "I'm sure he appreciates you offering up his house," he teased. 

"Don't joke – I'm serious. Yuugi would say the same thing. Just… don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it; I'd kick his ass for you." Jounouchi pulled into the driveway, and Ryou smiled – really smiled – at him. 

"Really, I'm fine, I swear. But if something happens, you'll be the first I tell, okay?" 

Jounouchi seemed satisfied with that promise. "Okay." 

Ryou left the car and headed for the door, stopping to wave from his porch. As Jounouchi pulled away he turned and went inside. 

He was back in the lion's den, yes, but he felt better. He felt more hopeful than he had when he left. Maybe it didn't have to be hell for him after all… He smiled and shook his head to himself. Jounouchi's words had made him feel better. He turned into the living room, pulling his jacket off and throwing it onto a chair. For a moment, he was sure that he'd be okay. He could hope. 

And then he was the way that Yami was looking at him. 

**-end chapter two-**

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**- notes -**  
Hopefully the church doesn't feel overly random – it doesn't seem that way too me. ^^;; I thought of all the places someone would turn for comfort, it seemed interesting, and I thought the insight of another person seemed to fit. Plus I seem to enjoy all the random references to Ryou's father, and his past. 

As for him not being Japanese, I know in the manga he was a new student, but it never says that he's an exchange student… I sort of took liberty with that one. ^^;; Forgive me? 


	4. Chapter Three: Hopeless Little One

**_Ashes doesn't own Yu-Gi-Oh!_**

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**Chapter Three  
Hopeless Little One**

"Bakura was distraught, finding you in a church," Yami said, stretching out on the couch. Ryou felt a shiver snake down his spine as Yami laughed – he even sounded amused, for once. "I guess he can't handle you having a god above him, sacrilegious fuck that he is." He looked over Ryou; his gaze was predatory. Hungry. 

Yami sat upright and patted the cushion beside him. "Come, sit with me." 

"I-I have some chores to do," Ryou stammered, moving to go into the kitchen. 

"Oh, take a rest; it'll be there in the morning. Come now, I don't bite." 

Ryou looked to the kitchen door, to the couch, and back to the front door before sighed and taking the seat offered to him. It probably wasn't in his best interest to deny Yami; he'd never actually pissed the spirit of the puzzle off, and he wasn't looking to find out what would happen if he did. With a grin, Yami wrapped an arm around Ryou's waist and pulled him close. "So, what drove you to sneak out your own window? Most people just walk out the front door." 

"Oh, you know, I just..." His voice trailed off as Yami's mouth dipped down to nibble on his ear. "...uh, felt like it..." Yami nodded, his head bumping a bit against Ryou's, then moved lower, urging Ryou to tilt his head in order to reveal more flesh – Ryou complied instinctively. Yami's hands traveled over Ryou's belly and down to his thigh as he sucked at the newly exposed skin. Ryou moaned softly, and he felt Yami bite down roughly on his neck – not enough to break skin, but enough to get Ryou's attention. 

"Hey," the teen protested weakly. "I thought you said you didn't bite." 

Yami chuckled, and his breath played along Ryou's flesh, making him tremble. "I guess I lied." He reached down to caress the teen through his jeans. 

"Oh!" Ryou gasped, bucking up for more of the touch. He bit his lip, and his head fell back against the back of the couch. Damn it, he hated Yami, but... 

"No." 

Ryou's head jerked up at the sound – not his voice, nor Yami's... There as Bakura, standing in the doorway and glaring at them. Fear danced through his nerves, and he panicked. How had he forgotten about Bakura's rules? But as Ryou trembled, Yami took his time before glancing over at Bakura, not stalling his hand's erotic assault on Ryou. 

All Ryou could do was wait in horror and try not to succumb to arousal. He squirmed a bit – it was easier said than done. 

"Hello," Yami said languidly, bending down to capture Ryou's lips; the white-haired boy gasped, and at that moment Yami's tongue plunged into his mouth, ravaging him. God, Bakura was going to kick his ass for it, but it was... fuck, it was good, and Ryou had to give in. 

Shame that the mouth was yanked away too soon, and he felt Yami get up. After a second Ryou opened his eyes to see Bakura and Yami facing off. Bakura was obviously seething, and Yami was just grinning. 

"Don't you have one of your own to fuck?" Bakura demanded sharply. 

"Nah, I'm not the sort that gets off on fucking myself," Yami retorted. "Besides, Yuugi had Jounouchi." 

"That's not the point. If you want to touch him, you talk to me. Now, out." 

Yami shrugged. "Fine." 

Ryou might have been foolish enough to hope that signified the end of their 'relationship' – if that's what it could be called – but he knew better. Bakura was staring at Yami's ass as he sauntered out. 

And then that smoldering gaze was fixed on Ryou. "You look... happy," Bakura snapped, and Ryou flushed, looking down. He shifted in his seat, trying to hide his obviously arousal. "Would you have let him fuck you?" 

Ryou blinked and looked up. "N-No..." he said slowly. Would he? He hated Yami, but he had always enjoyed Yami in bed, even if the tri-haired spirit had never been allowed inside him. Then again, he had known that Yami wasn't supposed to touch him, either. 

He noticed that Bakura was clenching his firsts, shaking slightly. He had never hit Ryou, but he had never seemed so angry... 

Bakura hissed something under his breath and turned on his heel, stalking out – in the direction that Yami had left. Ryou had a feeling that he was going to be tossing away bloodstained sheets in the morning. But to hell with the morning: he had right now to worry about. He was confused and alone on the couch, wondering exactly where his hope had gone. Only ten minutes, and he was left feeling as desolate as when he had left. He stood slowly. 

Come to think of it, it was late – at least he could make it to bed before they got to it. 

--

Ryou grunted, leaning back into the hands that snuck under his shirt and ran over his bare back. The sun was shining in his eyes. He had gone to bed alone; neither Bakura nor Yami had returned before 5 AM. A quick glance to the clock told him that he had been asleep a little less than two hours, and he was supposed to go to school in less than one. 

Fuck it. 

"Wake up, _hikari_," Bakura breathed in his ear, and Ryou moaned at the very sound – low, lusty – and shivered as Bakura reached around him, unbuttoning the pajama shirt and slipping it down enough to reveal his shoulders; lips tasted his skin, marked the overly-pale flesh of his shoulder. 

And there was another mouth at his bellybutton; a second set of hands was tugging at his pajama bottoms. 

Yami had been forgiven. Hell, it looked like Bakura was even offering him a gift... or a peace offering. 

There were no words among them – there never were. Ryou was stripped, delightfully trapped between the bodies of those who tormented him... yet he loved it; he begged for more as Bakura squeezed his ass, and he cried out as Yami's mouth engulfed him, tongue running tantalizingly over his length. Ryou's fingers tangled in tri-colored locks, and he arched back against Bakura. 

But Bakura wasn't as active as usual. His fingers explored Ryou's chest, teased and tortured his nipples, but he seemed most focused on watching Yami's bob skillfully over Ryou's cock. He bit down hard on the teen's shoulder as he watched, and he was almost instinctively grinding his arousal against Ryou's backside. 

Ryou didn't even try to resist the scream as his orgasm struck. He removed his shaking hands from Yami's hair, and Yami sat up, a self-satisfied grin on his face. Bakura's breathing grew shallow in Ryou's ear, and he crawled over Ryou, moving to pin Yami down to the sheets. Ryou watched, half-interested and half-disgusted, as Yami bent up into Bakura's touch, as Bakura's mouth trailed his flesh, leaving a train of bright bite marks across otherwise unmarred flesh, as delicate-looking fingers raked down Bakura's back... Ryou stood to leave; he didn't want to hear Yami's moans, didn't want to see what led to so much bloodshed in the bedroom. 

He didn't even worry about clothes until he was in the living room. He found some in the dryer; they were a little big for him, but they got the job done. There was a porch swing out back, and the weather was decent enough that morning. He went out and sat on the swing, pulling his legs up to his chest and sighing heavily. He laid his head on his knees, closing his eyes against the sunlight. He considered dozing off, but there was a much more poignant reason that he was keeping his eyes closed. 

He didn't want to risk letting tears fall. 

Damn Yami, and damn Bakura for just handing him over. If he was angry, he could have made Yami wait, should've held Ryou away... and he wanted to pretend that Bakura cared. He made a small noise of disgust and hid his face, hid the tears that slid down his cheeks. 

It was pathetic that he was able to think of himself as some sort of reward or punishment. 

He didn't know how long he sat there, but it didn't seem to be very long before a finger ran down over his bare arm. "Already done?" he grumbled, not looking up. He wouldn't look. He didn't want to look... The swing shifted as someone sat beside him. 

"You know how Bakura is," Yami said flippantly. "Looks like one of Bakura's outfits." 

Ryou shrugged. "Probably." He tried to hide the evidence of his tears in his voice. "I just took it out of the dryer." 

"Looks good on you." 

Ryou looked up to glare at Yami. Sex, sex, sex... In ten minutes, Bakura would probably want food, unless he was asleep. "I don't care if it looks good," he snapped. Yami reached out and trailed his thumb over the path of Ryou's tears. 

"Why are you crying?" he asked curiously. "Did something hurt you?" 

"Yeah, you!" Ryou snapped without thinking. He was tired, he was hurt, and he wasn't so sure he wanted to bother hiding either fact anymore. It took too much energy, and he was tired of it all. He wasn't supposed to be so weary, so young! He should have been at school with his peers, laughing, playing, complaining, and dealing with the trauma of young love. Instead, he had Bakura and Yami. "I hate you, and because of Bakura, because I love the stupid bastard, I'm never going to be rid of you!" In a more logical state of mind, he would have been concerned about telling Yami so much, for divulging secrets that he had held so dear to him, so precious for his sanity. 

But Yami just smirked, and inwardly Ryou despaired – how could Yami be so unmoved? 

"You misunderstand much," was all he said as he stood, turning to leave. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Ryou demanded, but the back door clicked shut, and he was alone. He sighed, "Fuck you." He stood and went into the house, but not to confront Yami. 

He wanted to back to sleep, and the couch was starting to sound mighty tempting... 

**-end chapter three-**

* * *

**notes**  
Title of the chapter comes from a song -- good song, and I loved the phrase; it just sounds really... well, cute. ^^;; 

*nerves* lol, I didn't edit this chapter, since it really wasn't that bad, but I'm still very skiddish about it, so please, pardon moi. ^^ 

Plotless little smut-fest as this story is coming off to be (lol), I swear it does have a point, and a meaning, and if it isn't evident by the end, I'll tell you then, okay? ^_^ 

As for Ryou... I'm a little concerned about him more than Yami or Bakura, in dealing with him as a character, because the end of this chapter sees a subtle shift in how he's reacting. (and it seems to be due to lack of sleep, lol!) But as worried as I am that he's drifting OOC, he's been a lot of fun to write. 

So I sat down with the outline the other day and fiddled with it a little bit, and through the process if twining and cutting, the chapter lost three chapters -- good news is, I've almost completed the rough draft of it. *yay* I was a little worried or a little bit there; I had no drive to work on it forever, and then today it all sort of started shifting where it should be. Which was exciting. 


	5. Chapter Four: Midmorning Confrontations

**_Ashes doesn't own Yu-Gi-Oh!_**

* * *

**Chapter Four  
Midmorning Confrontations**

Ryou woke up to find Bakura staring down at him. Not glaring, just watching… "H'lo," he mumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Something on your mind?" 

"Mine," Bakura said – so softly that Ryou almost didn't hear it – running a hand down the front of the black tank top that Ryou was wearing. Ryou rolled his eyes. Leave it to Bakura to stare at him over a shirt. 

"I probably bought it." 

"That's not…" Bakura straightened up and pulled his hand back as though he had touched something forbidden; his tone lost the fleeting softness it had held. "Shouldn't you be at school or something?" 

"I'm skipping today," Ryou replied. It was barely nine AM, and he didn't feel like being awake yet. "Now, if all you want to talk about is the ownership of the shirt, it can wait until I've gotten more sleep." He rolled over, burying his face in the throw pillow he had been resting on. His eyes were closed approximately three seconds before he had an epiphany. He sat up, looking around. Where had Bakura gone? 

It wasn't hard to find him; he had been in the kitchen, looking for something to eat. 

"What did you mean by 'mine' if you weren't talking about the shirt?" Ryou demanded. 

"I meant the shirt," Bakura retorted, not leaving the fridge. 

"No, you didn't." 

Ryou was done playing games, tip-toeing around his issues like they would bite – they tended to do so whether he pushed them or not. Maybe it was Yami telling him that he misunderstood, or perhaps it was the priest that had wished him well, but Ryou felt frustration well up inside him. 

He hadn't been afraid of the dark as a child. Seemed ridiculous to start as a teenager. 

As if he could feel Ryou's glare, Bakura demanded, "What?" He was still half-buried in the fridge, muttering curses under his breath. 

"I feed you. I clothe you. I submit to you. I l…" Ryou paused, and Bakura didn't move, didn't appear to notice Rou's almost-slip. He quickly came up with words to replace the one he had almost let fall. "I let you bring your fuck-toy in this house." 

Bakura straightened up, and he closed the fridge, looking at Ryou. "Let me?" 

"Yes. Now the LEAST you can do is answer my questions honestly." 

"Well, aren't you cute when you think you're powerful," Bakura spat, advancing on Ryou. He backed the teen against the kitchen wall, tucking a finger under Ryou's chin and forced him to look up at him. "Feeling _brave_?" His voice took a mockingly loving quality as he purred, "How many times have I used you, your body? How often have I taken control, absolute power over you without you being able to fight back? And you think you can defy me now with a few well-chosen words?" He laughed. 

Ryou's glare hardened and he retorted, "You don't think I could've fought you? Go ahead and ask how often I actually tried." 

Bakura seemed taken aback by that. It was only a half-truth; Ryou hadn't tried very often, but the few times he had, he'd been overpowered. Bakura didn't know that, though, and Ryou could use that. 

"What makes you think I ever particularly cared that you were so eager to take me?" Ryou almost smirked at the double meaning of his words. He mimicked Bakura's tone, lied through his teeth as he purred, "Given the daily activities of this house, what makes you think I value my body so much anyway?" 

That made Bakura's eyes open wide, and Ryou didn't bother trying not to smirk. It felt nice, taking the initiative for once, catching the damn spirit off guard. But those eyes narrowed quickly, and Bakura shoved him back into the wall even more painfully, snarling: "You're a horrible liar." 

"You're even worse," Ryou retorted quickly – another lie. Ryou rarely knew when Bakura was lying. "You've picked up one of my characteristics. You're eyes can't lie when your mouth does." 

"Fuck you," Bakura growled, taking a step back; he looked vaguely horrified. Ryou pushed him back further. 

"No, fuck you," he shouted, his anger gaining momentum. "I'm the one getting fucked around here, day after goddamned day!" 

"You don't complain." 

"Of course not – you bitch enough for the both of us! It's not in my nature to complain, and you're so damn content with the situation that I keep my mouth shut! But you know, I've got no reason to take this, I've done nothing wrong in my life to deserve to be your or Yami's whore. So… Fuck. You." 

Bakura turned and tried to walk away, but Ryou followed. To hell with it if making Bakura mad endangered his life; it wasn't like he was getting very far with it anyway, and he wanted answers. "Why do you just hand me over? How did I make you so angry that you went from owning me to being some demented pimp?" 

"I don't even know what a pimp is," Bakura muttered angrily. He stopped in the middle of the room, but Ryou ignored the action, continuing his tirade. 

"And what do you want from me, anyway? Total obedience, utter submission? You want to see exactly how far you can push me before… before something like this happens? And why do you have Yami around anyway? Why – " 

Bakura spun around, and Ryou was silenced just by the look on his face. He looked pained. Torn. Even slightly disturbed. But despite those obvious emotions, he looked dangerous too. He stepped forward, touched Ryou's cheek – the caress wasn't as mocking as usual. The spirit leaned down, surprising Ryou was a gentle kiss. 

Ryou had never been kissed quite like that. 

"You aren't meant to understand the inner workings of darkness, _hikari_." Bakura's voice was soft again, emotion indiscernible, and Ryou was shaking as he pulled away and stormed out the front door. 

Bakura had just become ten times more confusing in Ryou's eyes. But more significantly, for once, the word '_hikari_' hadn't felt like an insult. In fact, it had even felt like an endearment. 

**-end chapter four-**

* * *

**notes**  
There are only two reasons why this is going so quickly:  
A - It's not very long; it's like a glorified one shot or something.  
B - I went on a binge the other day and finished MOST of it.  
C - I'm proofing it on my own. 

On that note, thanks to _Ceresi_ for pointing out some typos in the last chapter! *thumbs up* I went back and fixed those. :) 

Hmmm... I'm not sure if I have many thoughts thus far. But look, its a whole new side of Bakura. Well, a slightly new side. Or something. XD 


	6. Chapter Five: Seperate Source

**_Ashes doesn't own Yu-Gi-Oh!_**

* * *

**Chapter Five  
Separate Source**

If Bakura wouldn't answer his questions, Ryou had another source: Yami. He was a lot less close-lipped than Bakura, and would be more likely to tell him what he wanted to know – the question was if Yami knew the answers. 

Ryou found Yami in the bedroom; he was sprawled out comfortably on the bed, eyes closed. He looked ridiculous but comfortable. 

"Need something, little one?" he asked, opening his eyes. Ryou hated that nickname even more than '_hikari_'. Yami wasn't that much taller than him. 

"I want some answers." 

"So ask some questions." 

Ryou sat at the edge of the bed, and Yami opened his eyes. "No, no," he said. "That's going to get uncomfortable, and I have a feeling this is going to be a long talk. Lie down." 

Ryou heaved a sigh and took the offer, stretching out beside Yami; an arm wrapped lazily around his waist. "Why are you always cuddling me?" he asked; it wasn't what he had come to ask, but it was a good question. 

"You're handsome like Bakura, and softer." 

"Yeah, about Bakura…" Ryou bit his lip. It was weird to be curled beside someone he swore he hated, flattered by his words… even odder that he found being compared to Bakura flattering. "Why? I never did understand that. How do two enemies end up in bed together?" 

"Similar kinks," Yami replied. 

"Is that all?" It was almost a disappointing answer. 

"Not at all – it's actually the least significant," Yami answered. "There are a lot of complicated reasons behind it. The first time we just met on the street one night, we were both angry, horny, and…" Yami paused and stared at the ceiling, as though watching a scene unfold on it. He seemed lost in his own reverie, and his words held an almost dreamy quality as he continued, "I'm his better – he knows this, I know this." 

It didn't matter to Ryou who knew it – it still made him angry that Yami would say it. He kept his mouth shut though, and Yami continued undeterred. 

"As long as he can dominate me in bed, he's okay with it, too." 

"And does he?" 

Yami smirked and shook his head slightly as though to clear it, but he didn't take his eyes off the ceiling. "Most of the time. After all, while he needs to know he can top me in something, I've got put him in his place once in a while." He almost sounded like he… 

"Do you care about Bakura? I mean, seriously?" 

Yami sighed heavily, and Ryou looked over at him in surprise. He had never heard a noise like that pass Yami's lips. Or perhaps he had never listened for it. "Have you ever felt like you don't know where you start and Bakura begins? That no matter how hard you try to look for it, the line between you two sometimes blurs, and one bleeds over into the other?" 

"Never," Ryou said. 

"Oh?" Yami sounded amused. "So that was all Bakura Ryou who just screamed his heart out downstairs?" 

Ryou hesitated. "…No," he admitted. 

Yami nodded and clicked his tongue. "Lets just say Bakura keeps me on my toes, reminds me who I am." 

"Well, that's all fine and dandy for you, but where do I fit into all this?" Ryou frowned. "Just what does Bakura get out of all this, with you? Or with me, for that matter." 

Yami didn't answer right away, and his eyes slipped closed. "Those are questions for Bakura to answer." Ryou silently cursed the answer and almost missed Yami's soft reply: "All I can really say is that you two remind me a lot of Yuugi and I." 

Funny, Ryou had always figured that Yuugi and Yami had a healthy relationship. "Does that bother you?" 

Yami smiled. "Not at all." He sat up, stretching and popping his back. "Bakura is complicated, little one. I'm not sure I could answer every question you have. Perhaps you could answer a few of mine." 

Ryou bit his lip again, then nodded slightly. Seemed only fair, after all. "Sure." 

"Do you appease Bakura because you love him, or because you fear him?" 

The question felt odd – Ryou figured his reasons were obvious. He considered Yami's previous statement. "Are you asking because you wonder about me, or because you see a parallel in my behavior and Yuugi's?" Yami didn't even flinch, and Ryou answered, "Because I care; he's not really that scary, once you get used to him." 

Yami nodded, and he leaned down above Ryou, their faces close. The morning light painted him well, made him look a bit ethereal. Almost made him glow. "And do you honestly hate me, or do you just resent the affection I rob from you?" 

Ryou hadn't expected THAT question… and didn't know how to answer. 

"Never mind," Yami said. "Your eyes say enough. You shouldn't look at it as a loss of affection. Whatever Bakura feels for you, my presence can't change it." 

"Then how should I view you?" Ryou asked. "If you're not robbing affection from me, then what **are** you doing?" 

With a grin Yami said, "Offering you a little more." He leaned down and took Ryou's lips, settling his body comfortably against the smaller teen's. He broke the kiss quickly. "Just know that I'm not here to make you sad." 

Yami… Ryou still felt the vague stir of hatred in his belly, mixed with excitement. Yami did rob affection from him, no matter what he believed, and Ryou wouldn't be quick to forgive that. But Yami definitely had a way with words... and his body. 

Not to mention that Ryou never could resist temptation; he reached up and pulled Yami down into another kiss, opening up to him. At least kissing Yami didn't feel like a mockery – it only felt like defeat. 

Then he felt it – the sudden surge of emotion… and it wasn't his. Ryou gasped, and Yami pulled back, looking up at Bakura. The white-haired man stood there, face expressionless, but Ryou had felt that unidentifiable emotion; it choked him, ran through him, and it was as triumphant as it was scary. It had been so long since he had felt any emotion flow between them. 

After a minute of looking them over, Bakura nodded slightly and turned to leave without so much as a word. 

Caught twice in less than twenty-four hours. Ryou started to push Yami back, but the spirit didn't budge. 

"Don't pursue him now," Yami said. "Leave him be." 

Ryou trembled, torn between listening to Yami and defying him. Finally he looked at the clock. 

10:00 AM. 

He couldn't handle the house anymore – Bakura and Yami were giving him a headache, screwing with his emotions. He needed to get out. 

"I think I'm going to school after all." He would be able to clear his thoughts better there. Yami nodded, sitting up to let Ryou go. 

"Did I answer your questions?" the spirit asked suddenly. He didn't sound overly concerned. 

Ryou nodded minutely. "Yeah, thanks." Almost warily he touched Yami's hand. It was the first time Ryou had touched Yami of his own accord. "Want me to pass any messages to Yuugi?" he offered, feeling a little awkward. 

"No; I'll see him later tonight." 

Ryou stood up to get dress, and smiled to himself. That would mean that he would have some time alone with Bakura. 

He wouldn't let Bakura off so easy the second time around. 

**-end chapter five-**

* * *

**notes**  
ugh, I'm not sure how to feel about this chapter; it set Ryou up with SOME answers to his questions, but made Yami a little more confusing, if you ask me – he was a bitch to write in the next chapter. x.x I guess I like the question and answer session, I just wish Yami could've said more, lol. 

Overall, it wasn't that great, but it was needed to get the ball rolling for the next chapter. 

I think the plan is that I'll put the last chapter and the epilogue up at the same time, simply because they sort of flow together (and I think its silly to wait and post an epilogue). Since neither is QUITE done (^^;;), it might take a little bit longer than these updates have been going. x.x 


	7. Chapter Six: Rise Up from the World We K...

**_Ashes doesn't own Yu-Gi-Oh!_**

* * *

**Chapter Six  
Rise Up from the World We Know**

Ryou had heard Bakura and Yami do a lot. He had heard them fuck, fight, joke – just once – sneer, scream for no reason other than screaming… but he had never heard them talk like civilized human beings. It seemed like a foreign concept, them conversing without blood or coming to blows. 

Of course he had to listen! The low rumble of their voices came through the bedroom door, and he leaned close to it, closing his eyes as though it could help him make out their words better. 

"…and he calls me confusing," Bakura growled. "I don't know what he wants, and even if I did, I doubt I could give it to him." 

"Do you think I know?" Yami replied evenly. "I can only speculate." 

"Then speculate out loud," Bakura demanded. 

Yami heaved a sigh. "He wants you. That's all." 

"That's all? Well, at the rate he's going, he'll be able to jerk off happily soon." Bakura's tone was dark, and Ryou furrowed his brow in confusion. Was Bakura insinuating that Ryou was… like him? 

"Doesn't that make you happy?" Yami said; he almost sounded bitter. "You always say you want him to toughen up." 

"Well, I – " 

While it was tempting to sit there and listen to them go back and forth, Ryou decided it was going to be better to get in there and ask his questions while they already sounded like they were in a contemplative mood. He opened the door, and both spirits looked up at him in surprise. Bakura was sitting in the open window, and Yami was on the floor. 

"Would someone – and I don't really care who – tell me what's going on?" he asked, closing the door and dropping onto his bed. "If you're going to talk about being confused, I want to be part of it; I'm just as lost." 

Bakura huffed and moved to leave, but Yami snapped, "Stay." His voice took on what Ryou supposed was his king-of-the-world tone as he continued, "For a man who was complaining, you're too rash. There's no reason to throw away this opportunity." 

"Please, Bakura," Ryou said. Maybe he was begging. Maybe he sounded like a fool. But damn it, he was having the weirdest day of his life, and he wanted to bring some of that to rest. 

"And why should you care if I'm here or not?" Bakura snapped. 

"Because Yami's right." Ryou didn't think about those words before he said them, and guessing by Bakura's expression, they weren't the best choice. "I just want you." 

"Why?" 

"I don't know why." 

"Then ask him," Bakura spat, gesturing towards Yami. "He likes to pretend he knows the answers to everything." With that he stormed out; Ryou listened as his feet stomped on each stair. When Ryou finally heard the door slam, he looked pleadingly to Yami. 

"What do I do now?" Bitterness seeped into his words. "Do I leave him to himself again?" 

"Why do you people always ask me like I know – I was Pharaoh, not psychic." For the first time, Yami sounded frustrated. "But apparently my guesses count for something, so I'll tell you what I always tell him: stop pussyfooting around each other and say something you mean. You're silent, and he's… well, its hard to find a word for him that isn't insulting but isn't flattering. But what you don't seem to understand is..." Yami sighed and stood, going to the window that Bakura had vacated and leaning against the sill. "Think of your life as a story. Each year writes a new chapter, builds new meanings… You are a complete story on your own, little one." 

Ryou wasn't in the mood for psychobabble – he just wanted answers. "Where is this going?" 

"Bakura fits into your story, right? He's a defining part of it, but without him, you'd still be a complete story. It wouldn't be the same story, but you'd still be whole." 

"No, I don't think that's true. I couldn't be complete without…" Ryou couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence; it sounded too weirdly devoted. 

"That's where you're wrong, and confused – you're talking about your heart, and I mean literally. If he were gone tomorrow, your life would continue, but if you died tomorrow, he'd die with you." 

The way Ryou saw that, it was the single most depressing thing he had ever heard. "So I'm only important to him because he can't live without me in a literal sense?" 

"That's a question for Bakura to answer – I don't know all his methods, and certainly not his reasons." Yami moved again, sat on the bed beside Ryou and caressed his back, almost like he was petting him. "But your stories ARE intertwined, and without one, the other would lose some meaning. Take some solace in that." 

The hand on Ryou's back was oddly comforting, and entirely confusing. When had Yami gotten so insistent on touching him? And why didn't it bother him a little more? 

"What do you really want from me? Am I just a cuddlier extension of Bakura?" 

Yami continued stroking Ryou's back in momentary silence. "No. You're the opposite of Bakura; you should know that. No matter how alike you two can become, in the end you'll always be opposites." 

It took Ryou a minute to understand. He was the opposite of Bakura, and Yami was like Bakura… In theory, that made him the opposite of Yami as well. There was only one other person… "I'm like Yuugi, right? A substitute _hikari_?" It felt weird to use the word to refer to himself, but Ryou didn't know a better word – after hearing himself called it so often, it felt right. 

"You're a lovely boy," Yami added. He didn't sound regretful. That was a little reassuring; Ryou didn't know if he could handle guilt. Then again, he doubted Yami was capable of it. 

"You just find what I am more alluring than who I am," Ryou finished, flopping onto his back. Without hesitating Yami's hand moved to the teen's stomach. Ryou wondered if he should stop talking while he was ahead, or if it would be best to finish his thoughts… Then again, hadn't part of Yami's advice been for him to stop being so silent? After a second Ryou continued, "Whatever. I guess I'm okay with that – after all, it's not like I harbor any great love for you either. I just happen to like you in bed. And you're not bad to talk to, I suppose." 

He could hear the amusement in Yami's voice: "Sounds like a truce." 

Ryou could handle that. "Yeah. Our only common link is Bakura. I love him – what's your claim?" 

"I understand him." Yami's tone turned slightly wistful as he continued, "We come from the same time, suffer a similar fate – we're probably the only thing we understand in this world. Between us, there's no new territory for us to map, no new feelings to discover – " 

"You still hate each other?" Ryou asked incredulously. 

"Yes," Yami answered without a second's hesitation. "He hates me for all I am, all the ways I better him, and I hate him for his arrogance and foolishness. But we still need each other to keep some semblance of sanity." 

"Why sex? Why not just drink tea and watch soap operas like normal people?" 

"Because this world, this life, it's beyond surreal – some days, it feels like a dream, or a horrible nightmare. All the sex… Well, it feels good, but it also reminds us of the crucial fact that we're really alive." 

Ryou blinked. He'd never even thought that they'd feel so strangely about sex… "Yami, I…" 

"Don't worry," Yami interrupted. "If you're still counting on my knowledge, I think its time for you to go talk to Bakura." 

"Why now?" 

"Because he's been sitting in the backyard for fifteen minutes, and he only does things like that when he's actually upset." 

Ryou sat up and stretched slightly, mulling over Yami's words. He looked over, and was almost surprised to find that the spirit didn't look sad. Had their roles been switched, and Ryou been the one telling such a story… How did they stand it? "Thank you," he said softly. It was all he could think to say. 

Yami only nodded, and Ryou left him in the bedroom. 

It turned out that Yami was right – Bakura was sitting in the backyard, staring off towards the sunset. Ryou walked forward and took a seat beside him, looking off in the same general direction. Bakura was so focused that Ryou suspected he was missing whatever the spirit was gazing at. 

"It was much prettier when I was young," Bakura said absently. "Sometimes I hate this place. It lacks the utter brilliance that I remember from… before, and I had never bothered looked very hard." 

"It looks good to me," Ryou replied softly. 

"That's because you don't know any better," Bakura huffed. "So I bet he told you the story analogy, right?" 

"Yes." 

Bakura snorted. "Pompous fuck – he loves that one. Spent an entire night rambling about it." 

"Bakura… Would you be happier if you weren't dependent on me? If you could just get up and go wherever you wanted without being tied to me, would that be better?" 

"No." Bakura's voice took on a slightly soft tone, like when he had kissed Ryou earlier that morning. 

"You don't act it. You act like being around me is some situation you have to make the best of – and believe me, you tend to get the best of me." 

At those words Bakura closed his eyes. "I hate seeing you so easily broken." 

"You're the one who puts me in that position." 

"I need to… I need to know that I can. But everyday you get a little more sarcastic, a little more defiant – a little more like me." 

_"Have you ever felt like you don't know where you start and Bakura begins?"_

"That should make you happy, if you hate seeing me broken. No one ever breaks you." 

"But I don't want you to be like me, don't you understand that?" Bakura snarled. Despite every defensive instinct in him, Ryou didn't back away. Slowly, Bakura turned to look at him, and his face was almost frighteningly serious. "I don't want a reflection of myself." 

"Y-you… You're such a contradiction!" Ryou burst. "Why can't you just tell me something outright? I'll even start and say something straightforward first. All I ever want to do…" Ryou bit his lip and looked away from Bakura. Despite his declaration, the bravery in his words, he was afraid to say it at all. Still, he said it, his voice barely above a whisper: "All I ever want to do I think you love me." 

Nothing seemed to move for a full minute. The only sound was the wind. 

And then a strong arm wrapped around his shoulder and pulled him close; Ryou blinked, unable to comprehend what was happening, being held by Bakura… The closest he had come to being held was after sex, late at night… if he was lucky. Bakura leaned against him, cheek against Ryou's hair. 

"Bakura – " 

"Shh," Bakura interrupted. "Didn't you say that this sunset always seemed just fine to you? You can think it beautiful without ever wondering what you may have missed. Maybe you're right, maybe you're better to be content with what you know and not seek something intangible, something that can never be." His grip on Ryou tightened. 

Something intangible that could never be – it was a metaphor if Ryou had ever heard one, and not a very reassuring one. "In other words, I shouldn't expect more from you than sex." 

"Did I say that?" Bakura asked. "I was talking about the sunset." They were quiet for a while, Ryou in near hopelessness, and Bakura… Well, in whatever it was Bakura did when he was quiet. Maybe he was plotting, or maybe he was thinking – or maybe for Bakura, there wasn't really a difference. "So that's all you want, huh?" Ryou looked up at him. He was surprised that Bakura was considering something that he was wanted. 

"Well… Yeah," Ryou admitted. 

"You're smart. You should always follow what you think, _hikari_ – you'll probably be right." 

It took Ryou a moment, but he realized what Bakura was trying to tell him – stop asking questions and accept that Bakura cared more than he said. 

He was telling Ryou to have faith, something he had so quickly scorned just the night before. 

It brought a small smile to Ryou's lips. Maybe his only option was to accept the irony, accept that Bakura wouldn't change – maybe Bakura simply couldn't change. Either way, no matter how foolish he was, Ryou loved him just the same. He leaned comfortably against the spirit, not wanting to waste a perfect moment. 

No more words passed between them as they watched the sunset. 

**-end chapter six-**

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**notes**  
note on title: I wanted to use a line from the song the title of the story came from, and I thought this one fit pretty well, given the weird nature of the chapter. ^^; 

Did this chapter make any sense? I sure hope so, considering that it's more or less the ending. x.x I hope it didn't disappoint; I rather like how it turned out, overall. But I spent forever looking over it again and again, trying to make sure it made sense and 

I don't know if everyone realized it (or if I already mentioned it ^^;), but this entire story spans about a day and a half – the prologue + first two chapters being the half, then the rest being the other day. Weird. 


	8. Epilogue

**_Ashes doesn't own Yu-Gi-Oh!_**

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**Epilogue**

Ryou never saw those sides of Yami and Bakura again. 

Yami was always decent enough to talk to, and he was even fun to have around on occasion, but he never revealed so much about himself. Above all things, he and Ryou never talked about Yuugi or Bakura, and even then, it was never in the same context as that day. That was okay with Ryou, considering that they at least got along after their 'truce'. 

It would still be a stretch of the imagination to call them 'friends'. 

Bakura… Well, except for the random bouts of tenderness – which were few and far between – he hadn't changed much at all. He still mocked and ridiculed Ryou, and Ryou still took it, for the most part. But every now and then, Ryou caught him watching the sunset with a wistful look to him. 

Even Ryou didn't change much, though out of three, his had been the most drastic. He was always more conscious of the 'line' that separated him and Bakura, and while he didn't back down as much, he never fought back as hard as he had that day either. He stopped hating Yami – in fact, he rather pitied him. 

"Stop fidgeting, _hikari_," Bakura growled in his ear, pulling the teen a little closer. Ryou probably should have gone to sleep, but he couldn't help it. He always found that he did the most thinking when sandwiched between Yami and Bakura. 

Bakura's rules were still in effect, for the most part. He still got testy if he caught Yami and Ryou getting too far without him, and Yami still wasn't allowed to take him under any circumstances. It still must have been a pleasure reserved only for Bakura… Ryou found it relieving that there was no bitterness in his internal monologue when he said that. It kind of made him feel a little loved. 

All in all, their situation looked about the same on the surface. But it wasn't the surface that mattered – it was what was beneath it that was worth worrying about. Even if he had only seen beneath their surfaces one night, Ryou had gotten that glimpse, and it was enough for him. He didn't feel like a toy, a whore to be passed around in his own home. It all made their antics worth enduring. 

"I said stop fidgeting," Bakura replied louder, and Yami snickered. Bakura shot some wiseass comment at Yami, and before Ryou knew it, they were shouting at each other over something. 

It would all escalate to foreplay within five minutes. After all, Bakura always seemed to sleep peacefully after a couple of new bruises from sex with Yami. 

Ryou crawled over Bakura unabashedly; he never wanted to get caught in the middle of THAT. He sighed and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep and he listened to his chains rattle. 

**-end-**

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**notes**  
And... it's the end. I hope to god it made sense. ^^;; I like it, so I also hope that counts for something. x.x 


End file.
